


Usurp

by birdcaged



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blackmail/Extortion, M/M, Male Friendship, Pre-Slash, Pre-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Sexual Harassment, The Deadly Years reboot, Unwanted Sexual Advances, corrupt leadership, references to Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcaged/pseuds/birdcaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What should've been a simple enroute mission to Starbase 10 to drop off a Starfleet Commodore ends up being a lot more than the crew can handle. </p><p>"I seem to recall countless times you and Captain Kirk were prattling on the bridge like cadets when he was in command," Stocker says, and Leonard has to bite his tongue in order to stop himself from making a very, very threatening retort that would send him off to the brig. Stocker raises a brow, as if to provoke him. "While Captain Kirk's familiarity with <em>certain</em> members of his crew is unorthodox and severely improper, I expect absolute professionalism within <em>my</em> crew."</p><p>The possessive pronoun further irks him. Stocker may be in the chair, and they may have to execute his orders, but they definitely were not <em>his crew</em>. That was earned, not given.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A reboot of the TOS episode "The Deadly Years." Not required to have seen it, but it's where I got a huge chuck of the plot from, but I diverged _severely_ from it. Ever since STID, I'm kind of obsessed with the corruption in Starfleet (e.g. Admiral Marcus anyone?).  
>  Also as a sidenote: in my headcanon I've always seen Jim and Bones more as epic bromates than lovers, so there's no established romance between them (yet, maybe, who knows), but that doesn't mean Bones and Jim love each other any less!

Everyone (well at least the bridge crew, Leonard thinks) knew Commodore Stephen Stocker was apart of the ‘good ol’ boys club’ of Starfleet. For as much as a merit-based organization Starfleet claimed, there still existed the officers who kissed ass to the admiralty to get ahead. Thus as such, Starfleet had its fair share of officers who had no business in command positions; were better suited for a menial desk job than commanding a starship. Even more unfortunate, men like Commodore Stocker was one of those nuisances who liked to throw rank to get what he wanted. The moment he stepped on board the ship, he insinuated Jim was incompetent and threatened to enact some Starfleet regulation about the highest ranking officer taking command. Jim had responded with his natural insouciance and stubborn tone, but Leonard could see right through it in a heartbeat. Jim had thick skin, but when it came to his competency as a starship Captain, it was like his achilles' heel.

Jim, with all his innate bravado and bright smiles and anecdotes, could not hide the hurt when Stocker dismissed him like he was some novice ensign openly on the bridge when Jim refused to stop their mission on Gamma Hydra IV so they could drop him off at Starbase 10. Commodore Stocker seemed to think the Enterprise was his own personal taxi, and as the days went on, he grew more and more agitated towards Jim for not catering to his whims. Everyone had anticipated the inevitable explosion and when it came, Jim, thankfully, was wise enough to keep quiet as Stocker dressed him down publicly, knowing a reaction would only make it worse, and of course, only further prove Stocker's assessment that Jim was too 'immature' and 'blatant disrespect for authority' made him unfit to be a starship captain, and a whole plethora of adjectives that the very Commodore himself lacked.   

Even Uhura, who initially had not been Jim’s biggest fan, looked upset when Stocker made a flippant comment that the only reason he was Captain was because he slept with Pike.  

“C’mon, Kirk, I certainly don't blame Chris, what with a pretty face like yours,” Stocker chortles, and the bridge is suddenly stiflingly silent. A needle could be dropped and everyone would hear it. Even from his peripheral vision he can see Spock’s back straighten, if such a feat were possible for the damn hobgoblin; his back was always rod-straight. "But pretty faces don't make sound, competent leaders."  

There had been no formal training on how to deal with an inappropriate authority figure at the academy, especially when aforementioned officer was the highest ranking officer on the ship. But if there was, Leonard was certain it would have at least involved basic combatives.

  He immediately follows Jim to the turbolift, seething, lest he do something incredibly stupid like hypospray a commanding officer in the neck with an incurable virus.  

“The fucking nerve,” Leonard spits out the moment the doors swoosh shut, giving them privacy. “I’m calling admiralty the moment I get back to my -"

“Bones,” Jim cuts him off, “ _don’t_. Stocker will be off this ship in less than 72 hours, I’m pretty sure I can handle his taunts until then.”  

Leonard looks at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? He insulted you! In front of the entire bridge crew! And laughed! You can’t tell me that doesn’t warrant a fucking court-martial - "  

“Court-martial?” Jim laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “Hardly. Besides, I’ve dealt with worse.”  

Jim exits the lift as soon as it stops on his floor, his comment breaking Leonard’s heart. From the moment Jim stepped on at the academy grounds, he’d been forced to deal with rumors and slander concerning his legitimacy in Starfleet. From being the legendary George Kirk’s son to Pike’s favorite to _this_. As if Jim saving the goddamn fucking planet was trivial and didn't count for anything.

* * *

The next morning, the bridge is still eerily, depressingly quiet. No more normal playful banter. Leonard never realized, without Jim, the atmosphere was sickeningly despondent and lacked the ebullience Jim brought to the bridge. Now it was, for lack of a better term, tense. Chekov stared at his console as if it was going to leap out and bite him, Sulu sat noticeably rigid in his chair, and Uhura kept staring at the back of Stocker's head as if she were trying to optically laser beam the man's head off. Spock was the only one who appeared unfazed. Mainly because, Leonard strongly suspected, Spock was always semantically correct in his assertions. Commodore Stocker was an idiot, but at least he knew it was over his intellectual level to try to best a Vulcan's logic. Jim seemed to possess the only finesse to do so. To this day, Jim refused to indulge his First Officer on how exactly he beat his test. Countless times Leonard had witnessed Jim telling Spock he would tell him the day it became 'relevant', a play on Spock's own words when Spock would, whether intentionally or not, waited until the last possible minute to inform Jim of some important piece of information after the fact. (“Captain, there was no logic informing you as it would’ve rendered no affect on the decision that had to be made” “Damn it, Spock, for once in your life can you ever tell me things as they happen?” “As the matter becomes relevant, I will, Captain.” “Oh great, thanks.”)   

The only reason Leonard is even here is because when a commanding officer hailed you, you stopped what you were doing and ran. Never mind he had more urgent matters to tend to - like trying to solve the mystery why Lieutenant Galway, who was only twenty-four, was experiencing early signs of dementia, a disease that was prevalent in geriatric patients. Which concerned him greatly, because Jim too had been apart of the landing party on Gamma Hydra IV.

"You rang?" Leonard says sarcastically, not scared to show his displeasure nor disrespect by crossing his arms.

Stocker swivels his chair - no, Jim's chair Leonard thinks fiercely -  to face him. "Doctor McCoy, need I remind you the proper tone when addressing a superior officer?"

Jesus Christ, this guy was a total conceited asshat, Leonard thought inwardly. Whereas Jim's instance on being called Captain (even in privacy, the cocky brat), was more of a playful jest than a demand, Commodore Stocker truly believed his rank made him a god among men.

" _Commodore_ , I have a job to do, which involves healing the ill and saving the dying," Leonard says curtly, "so short of a bridge crew member experiencing a medical emergency, which I see none thankfully, I have no business on the bridge."

"I seem to recall countless times you and Captain Kirk were prattling on the bridge like cadets when he was in command," Stocker says, and Leonard has to bite his tongue in order to stop himself from making a very, very threatening retort that would send him off to the brig. Stocker raises a brow, as if to provoke him. "While Captain Kirk's familiarity with _certain_ members of his crew is unorthodox and severely improper, I expect absolute professionalism within _my_ crew."

The possessive pronoun further irks him. Stocker may be in the chair, and they may have to execute his orders, but they definitely were not _his_ crew. That was earned, not given.

"How can I help you, _sir_?" Leonard manages to bite out in a barely-veiled contemptous tone.

" _Doctor_ ," Commodore Stocker says, mocking his title as much as Leonard had mocked his, "Starfleet Regulation - " (Leonard finds he much rather have Spock cite Starfleet regs to him than this arrogant ass, which said a fucking _lot_ ) "dictates a mandatory physical is a preliminary requisite before a competency hearing can be conducted."

At the words competency hearing, Leonard can't contain his growl anymore, "All due respect, _Sir_ , but this isn't a conversation we should be having in the open - "

"No, it's not," Commodore Stocker cuts him off, his mouth tightening. "But seeing as Captain Kirk is unresponsive to my calls, I'm enlisting in your help to get him to sickbay and perform your duty as Chief Medical Officer, unless of course, you feel that you are unable to do your duties - "

"Understood," Leonard snaps, then hastily adds, "Sir." And without waiting for a dismissal, he exits the bridge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions! I'm pretty overwhelmed by the subscriptions! ^0^  
> Secondly, incredibly sorry about the long wait. 2014/first half of 2015 was a shitastic year for me so writing took the backburner. Good news is that a03 is awesome and saved the drafts of the chapters I had thankfully outlined before my unexpected hiatus (WHICH I WAS SO HAPPY AO3 DID OMG) so now I only have to write it out. This chapter in particular was immensely fun to write, so hope ya'll like. ^-^

 

In the end, Leonard doesn't have to look any farther than his own niche. Walking into his private back office in medbay to find James T. Kirk, once again stealing his good bourbon, was no big surprise. Jim was always stealing his food, alcohol, and getting himself in some sort of trouble that pulled Leonard away from his medical duties. For the first time, his duties and wants coincided. And what a cruel way for it to finally happen - he did not want to conduct a physical examination on Jim (well no more than usual, Jim had iatrophobia for the longest time before Leonard could convince him to let him conduct his annual routine physicals), because that would just speed up the process Commodore Stocker had set in motion.

 

Jim smiles at him when Leonard enters the doorway, raising his glass as if in a reverent toast. "To the Great Doctor....Bones." He then titters off into drunken laughter.

 

Leonard frowns before settling in his chair across from Jim's, like he had many, really too many, times before. Jim swaggered into his medbay either to pester him or lament over something. Over time, he consoled himself that acting as the non-official therapist of the starship's commander was an unspoken duty. Doctor Puri had at least told him that much before he died.

 

“I mean, who I was kidding, Bones?” Jim laments, his voice breaking as he says, “in the end, men like Massengale always win.”

 

It takes him a moment to catch on what exactly Jim is telling him. When he does, his frown deepens. It wasn't like Jim to give up so quickly, not when he had spent the past five years annoying the shit out of him, strutting around on campus, telling anyone within a ten foot radius that he was going to be a starship captain. Most of their peers had found Jim's proclamation amusing, some of them annoyed, and most of them, Leonard included, knew it was true .Jim was a tactical genius, a schemer and could find loopholes in every single scenario without even having to try. It was a gift, a natural-born god given gift Jim had been bestowed. He was destined to be Captain, and Jim knew it too. Except, for some odd reason, Jim was letting the pompous chair-bound paper-pusher Commodore trick him into thinking otherwise.

 

"What the hell is really going on," Leonard demands, uncorking the bottle and pouring himself a rather large amount. Well, considering he had no fear of Commodore Stocker leaving his station (man seemed to love the chair more than his own bed) and finding them drunk while on duty, he figured they were safe.

 

Jim looks up at him with dilated, worn blue eyes. "How's Lieutenant Galway?"

 

Of course, Jim had an increasingly worrying disregard for his own well-being, too.

 

Giving in to Jim's need for a diversion, he replies honestly, "a peculiar, unexplained degeneration disease. I don't know what's causing it. A virus, a bacteria, or evil spirits, but I'm trying to find out."

 

The corners of Jim's mouth quirk into a rueful grin. "The great detective Bones, an occultist and a medical doctor. A man of all trades."

 

"Sounds like a horrid television sitcom you'd watch," Leonard comments dryly, taking a sip and savoring the burn hitting the back of his throat.

 

"Probably," Jim admits, tracing the rim of his empty glass with his forefinger, "Bones, I'm younger than most of my crew. Nobody will ever hold that against me because yeah, I saved the world from some future megalomaniac, but over time, people forget that, you know? Because what you do on a daily basis, after a while, is what people are gonna remember, not what you did five, ten years ago."

 

"Four months ago," Leonard corrects, "and I think saving the fucking planet overrides your age. Maturity and experience will come with time, Jim. But don't you dare tell me you think Commodore is more fit for command than you, because I swear to god, Jim, I'm going to give you a vaccine worse than Melvaran mud fleas."

 

"To think, that started the chain of events, you sticking me in the neck and nearly killing me," Jim laughs, and it's true, it's so startling true, it makes Leonard swallow too quickly and he coughs.

 

( _I couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic._ )

 

Now he wonders, did Jim blame him?

 

"And you're a idiot if you think I blame you," Jim says, as if reading his mind in that exact moment. He supposed, living in each other's pockets for nearly five years, telepathy was unavoidable between them. "Thanks to you," Jim hiccups slightly, "I'm not a fuck-up. I'm a hero, I've reached my dream."

 

"I thought we were past the self-loathing stage," Leonard sighs, and Jim's head falls onto his arms.

 

"Bones, Stocker was _right_. We should've left the second we found Robert Johnson's decomposed body. Whatever pathogens were in the air at the time...I can't figure out why I didn't remember to use code 3! It's...I can't recall why we can't use code 2. Uhura covered up for me, but - "

 

Leonard brow furrows at this information, that not even alcohol can override his mind can stop him from mulling on the symptoms. "You honestly didn't remember that the Romulans had broken code 2?"

 

Jim shoots him an affronted look. "I did after I picked up on the pointed stare Uhura was throwing at me, unfortunately, Stocker picked up on it too."

 

Well, that settled it. Seems as though the Commodore was going to get what he wanted after all.

 

"What the hell!" Jim exclaims when Leonard grips him tightly by the arm and directs him towards the nearest biobed, but not before delving through his secret stash of the 'hangover remedy' Jim snuck in and tried to steal from him all too often when he returned from a night excursion and had an early exam the next morning.

 

"Oww!" Jim gripes like the overgrown child he is when Leonard injects him without warning to the neck. It takes a few minutes, but soon Jim's pupils recede to normal and his vitals level out. How could he have been so stupid? Alcohol was the worst idea for dementia, it would only stimulate the disease.

 

"Jim," Leonard says in a tone that leaves no room for argument, and Jim instantly knows not to interrupt and listen. "You're not having a single drop of alcohol until we get you fixed in time before the competency hearing."

 

* * *

 

 

Jim, after a few hours in medical as a patient, was worse than a child. A child had patience, Jim had none. He whined too much, and seemed to think singing off key to bad songs was a perfect torturing device. Which, it completely was. Nurse Chapel had no qualms telling her commanding officer to shut up (and Leonard may have been purposefully avoiding the topic on why he initially looked so upset when reviewing Jim's chart by confining himself to his office, comparing Lt. Galway's results with Jim's). Eventually, Jim's intuition picked up on this tactic (Leonard had employed it many many times to avoid emotional, or awkward conversations when they were roommates). But this, _this_ was colossal compared to sad birthdays and lost daughters.

 

So naturally, Jim just unplugged the monitoring devices and peeked in his office, looking, for a brief second, more like an impish young man scared to be caught than a Captain. Most days, it amazed Leonard how seamlessly Jim could transform roles like that. He could be calm and in control and authoritative on the bridge, and less than a minute, he would be Jim. A prankster rogue who pandered him needlessly with idiotic jokes and stories of his many excursions before the academy.

 

"So what's the verdict, Bones," Jim says, cutting right to the chase because that was Jim. He never showed fear or apprehension when it came to bad news; like he was used to it.

 

Leonard finds, alcohol or not, wasn't going to make this conversation any easier but it was a personal preference. But he wouldn't risk Jim's life anymore because of his selfish wants. He wasn't going to a complete ass of a friend and drown himself in alcohol when Jim couldn't, shouldn't. He needed Jim's mental facilities to stay coherent as long as they could.

 

So he tells him, in a completely heartbreaking somber tone:

 

"Jim, you're dying."

 

(Words, he never never thought he have to think, much less say out loud.)

 

Jim's reaction is bubbled laughter, disbelieving laughter, as if Leonard had just told him the pinnacle of a grand joke.

 

"You're not joking," is all Jim can say, after the silence takes over.

 

"God damn it, Jim, this is your _life_ , not some _fucking joke_! You really think I would joke about your life!" Leonard snarls.

 

Jim looks scared at his ferocious reaction. "I didn't mean to be...insensitive, Bones. But I'm _twenty-six years old_ and you're telling me I'm dying, how else am I supposed to take that?"

 

"I don't know!" Leonard admits, rubbing the length of his forearm across his face, feeling the exhaustion hit him. By Jim's accelerated rate, he'd be dead by the time Stocker commenced his farce of a competency trial. And god the thought of Jim _dead_ terrified him so much, he found he welcomed Stocker's command if it meant Jim would at least be alive. If that's the deal he had to make, he would.

 

"I think you're taking this harder than I am," Jim says, smiling wanly and putting a hand on his shoulder, comforting Leonard when it should be _the other way around._

 

" _You fucking son of a bitch_ ," Leonard hisses. "You're not even the least bit...I don't know, _scared_?"

 

"Well," Jim says softly, ducking his head down so Leonard can't see his eyes. "I'm more scared what it'd do to you, my mom, the crew. I'm scared about that, the most. I don't want...I don't want you guys mourning my death, getting depressed. That _scares_ me."

 

 "Don't get all depressed on me now," Leonard snaps, "because I haven't lost anyone yet on this god forsaken mission, and I'm not starting now."

 

"I know that," Jim says, "I know I'm in good hands with you, Bones."

 

When he stands up, Leonard scowls. "Just where do you think you're going?"

 

"In case you haven't noticed," Jim says, "the bridge looks like they're gonna go suicidal any second now. I figured I'll liven up the mood a bit - "

 

"Yeah, I bet," Leonard says, rolling his eyes. "Divert the attention back onto you. In case this entire conversation has already escaped your mind, you're not going anywhere near the bridge in your condition. Commodore would absolutely love to see you make an ass out of yourself - "

 

"Thanks," Jim hisses.

 

"I seem to recall your complaints last week about much needed time off," Leonard says, "and seeing how I'm the CMO and have the authority to relieve an officer on duty, you're relieved. "

 

If he smiles a little as he says it, it can't be helped. Jim punches him in the shoulder as he departs.

 

* * *

 

 

Spock was by no means Leonard's favorite person. Sure, maybe at first he had initially liked the Vulcan (was it wrong that he thought Spock was flawless in his counterargument to Jim's opinion on the Kobayashi Maru? Jim didn't normally fluster so easily when someone challenged him; and, although cut short, it had been an interesting debate to witness; Jim's passionate nature versus Spock's logicality). But besides Spock possessing the clever intellect to bring Jim's ego down a notch or two, Spock was increasingly one hundred and twelve percent intrusive. Maybe if he wasn't so vexed with Spock encroaching on his territory, he would clearly see Spock was only in medbay because he was scared too, in his own bastardly impassive Vulcan way. And if there was one thing they agreed on mutually without argument: it was Jim's well-being. After all Spock had been persistent on Jim not joining the landing party, quoting some Starfleet regulation at Jim that Captains were not to go on planetside missions and stay on the bridge. Then the two quarreled on the exact wording in said passage (Jim actually knowing the reg enough to pull it up on his PADD and highlighting the word recommendation not equivalently to mandate), and Spock had acquiesced because Jim technically was correct. And Vulcans were all about technicalities and Jim had discovered that pretty early on in their rough start of their Captain and First Officer relationship.

 

Uhura, whom Leonard had been standing closest to at the time, had whispered to Leonard in an amused tone, "I swear they argue like they've been doing this for years. It's hilarious."

 

It _was_. Leonard had shook his head, wondering if watching Spock and Jim verbally spur at each other was going to be a habitual display for their future missions. It certainly would kill off the mundaneness at least, and with Jim's personality, it was a guarantee.

 

He supposed, now that Jim was ill, he was next on the totem pole for arguments.

 

"Spock, unless you have a medical degree - " _Get the hell out of my medbay_ , he wants to say but Spock is the executive officer and outranks him in that regard.

 

"Doctor, I have a postulated a theory on why Ensign Chekov is not exhibiting signs of mental deterioration."

 

"Postulated, have you?" Leonard remarks snippily, though his curiosity was piqued. Ensign Chekov, out of the five that had gone down to Gamma Hydra IV (Jim, Ensign Chekov, Lieutenants Galway, Erwin and Kiley), had yet to show any symptoms. He had run tests from blood to bone marrow and had come up empty-handed why the young man was evidently immune to whatever the hell the others had caught.

 

"Yes," Spock says, hands firmly clapped behind his back.

 

Leonard waits a few seconds, then huffs out, "Well any day now, Spock, ain't like lives aren't at stake here..."

 

 "In interviewing all the members of the landing party, Ensign Chekov informed me that he had veered off for a moment from the others," Spock says, "and thought perhaps he had seen a cadaver."

 

"So he thought he saw a dead body, and what?"

 

"He thought he was hallucinating and ran back to the others. The Captain did mention, in his version, Chekov had looked perturbed about something."

 

"Huh," is all he can say. "So he thought he saw a dead body, got scared and caught back up with the others?"

 

"Precisely."

 

Leonard can imagine. He'd be scared out of his wits too if he thought he was imagining dead bodies. Which sort of begged the question if Jim had been correct in his assessment to stay on Gamma Hydra IV longer, because his gut had told him something 'felt off'.

 

"Yes, yes," Leonard says, contemplating this piece of newfound information and how exactly Spock would arrive at anything he had not in his examinations.

 

Chekov had been scared. Increased heart rate, likelihood of perspiration, increased breathing and heightened sense of awareness. The sudden release of the neurotransmitter epinephrine. Fight-or flight-response.

 

"Adrenal activity," Leonard murmurs, walking to his desk and picking up a PADD, typing into it. "So, alright, you _postulated_ adrenal activity is the cause?"

 

"No," Spock says, "merely the source of Ensign Chekov's immunity."

 

Spock was a damn pain in the ass, but he did have a reputation for bringing up sound points.

 

The ship lurches and Leonard curses as he's jerked bodily to the ground.

 

Not again.

 

He may have barely gotten over his aviophobia, but he still would never get used to _this_.

 

"Nurse Chapel!" he cries out once the emergency lights start flickering and the red alert siren goes off.

 

Christine is already there, miraculously unfazed. "I'll start prepping extra biobeds." Bless her, he thought, a nurse who knew what he wanted before he had to say it.

 

* * *

 

 

Engineering took the biggest hit. Seemed like every two minutes more of them were coming in, uniforms singed with second, third degree burns. It seemed as soon as Leonard released them back into the wild, two more took their place. Hand injuries were common, and a few minor concussions.

 

Then in the midst of the chaotic mess in medbay, Jim walks in, erratic and near incoherent.

 

"Bones," Jim looks noticeably worn, and obviously ignoring his strict bed rest order. "You gotta fix me so I can get to the bridge."

 

Just like always, Jim expected he drop everything and tend to his needs first. The ungrateful brat, he seethes. As though before this whole debacle with the Romulans he hadn't been up for 48 hours straight synthesizing a serum for him and the others, or hadn't lied on a report to Commodore Stocker that he needed more time to complete his evaluation on Jim. He ignores Jim at first, applying the gel on the ensign's arm (lacerations from the explosion on the lower deck the ensign had told him). The ensign, sensing the palpable tension between the two men, quickly departs without saying a word. Then Leonard turns around to face Jim (tries to ignore the aging lines beginning to show on his face, which meant his condition was worsening) and grabs him towards the one area of the sickbay that wasn't in complete disarray.

 

"Lemme tell you something," Leonard snarls, pointing an accusing finger at Jim the moment the door closes behind them to his office. "I'm the CMO and I'm the one person on this ship that can relieve an officer on duty, and guess what? You're confined to sickbay until I say you're not." He wants to add Jim had no business on the bridge anyway, but they both knew Jim could run circles around Commodore Stocker, even with half his facilities, when it came to battle tactics.

 

The ship sways again and Leonard curses. Jim nearly barrels into him, but luckily he catches himself in time by grabbing onto the desk and sends Leonard an icy glare.

 

"I don't have time for your pseudo doctor power trips, Bones!" Jim says heatedly, "if you don't give me that serum then Stocker's gonna get us all killed!"

 

"Serum? How the hell did you - "

 

"If you really think I was lying leisurely in bed like you told me to, then you're more of an idiot than I originally thought!" Jim yells, "you goddamn stubborn-" The second lurch is devastatingly more severe that for a split second, he can't even hear the normal hum the ship emits. It's utterly silent for a brief moment before, without warning, Jim is staggering towards him again, and Leonard somehow manages to catch Jim by the forearms as they both fall against the wall and ungracefully onto the floor.

 

"God damn it, Jim," Leonard huffs once they come to a halt, "mind removing your kneecap from my ribcage?"

 

 Jim answers his request by nearly punching him in the jugular as he attempts to stands up.

 

"I'm not giving you the damn serum!"

 

"Why the hell not!"

 

"I haven't had time to test it! It could kill you!" It was an unknown, untested thing, and he couldn't submit Jim to something like that without knowing its repercussions.

 

"As if you've never killed anyone before!" Jim shouts, and Leonard feels like he's been gut-punched, and Jim seems to revel in his reaction and continues on his tirade, "you're such a fucking hypocrite! You once told me you don't want anyone's death on your hands ever again, and yet here you are refusing to give me a serum that might _save everyone_ on this ship. You never stopped mourning over your old man's death, and now suddenly you have no conscience about 400 lives?"

 

He wasn't sure what hurt worse: Jim underhandedly exploiting his one weakness, or Jim not showing an ounce of remorse as he said it, or after.

 

In the end, Jim gets what he wants and nobody cares he's sprouting a black eye and a dried up bloody nose, because once again, James Tiberius Kirk saves the day. Leonard doesn't bother going up to see what happened, because within minutes, the ship stops taking hits and he locks himself in his office to drink.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Some brief explanations/background notes** : took the luxury of taking a bit of TOS McCoy's background and reinserted it in AOS. For those who haven't watched any of TOS/movies: McCoy euthanized his own father after he was stricken with an incurable disease, and shortly afterwards, a cure was discovered and ensue the crippling guiiiilt (poor baby).
> 
> Secondly, Jim references the novel Once an Eagle in the beginning. In my headcanon, it seemed appropriate that Starfleet would have its command track cadets read it as its used in military academies as a leadership guide today. Basically it focuses on two officers distinct leadership styles, Damon rises through the ranks through merit and leads from the front, whereas Massengale rises through the ranks through politics and nepotism and makes General.


End file.
